The Memoirs of Nathanial O'Killarny Addams
by Timballisto
Summary: Collection of WednesdayOC oneshots spanning pre-The Addams Family to post-Addams Family Values in no particular order. Rated T for Wednesday's usual dark humor. !UPDATE!
1. Freaking Ray of Sunshine

These are ideas I've had about my OC Nathanial O'Killarny who lives behind the Addams Family estate in a small federally owned apartment building. It's WednesdayOC

I've put them in chronological order.

**Not all chapters are related- think of them as set in the same universe but not necessarily in a serial format.**

* * *

The sky swirled, the clouds rumbled, it seemed like the sky itself wanted to devour the earth, its teeth were jagged bolts of lightning, a fierce animal alive with the primal force of Mother Nature.

I was inside my small apartment, provided for me by my estranged parents, living by myself even at the tender age of fifteen. Sure I still loved my parents, but it seemed that, when they had divorced, I always had to choose. I had to choose where to go to school, what to eat, what to take, who to live with.

And so I chose neither, I would live by myself and not hurt anybody but me. I'm not sure you realize how big and lonely an apartment can be for a teenager.

My parents paid for my rent and gave me a weekly allowance for food and such, paid for my tuition at the private school I was forced to attend, and paid extra cash because I was 'special' and I needed 'love and support' that only a few hundred greenbacks could get me.

Pfft. And they wonder why I dressed so weird? I mean, sure I dyed my hair a different color every week and the colors I wore hurt even a blind man sense of style, but it didn't mean I needed therapy, right?

From my apartment window I could see the cemetery of an expansive mansion, tombstones extending from barely fifty feet from my apartment complex (probably the reason the apartments were government owned, no one wanted to have a graveyard for the view) to the shadow of a house miles away. I used to stare at the house and wonder who lived there, if they had kids who would hang out with me, or if they went to my school if they cared if I was white or black, like the private school I went to did.

I heard whispers at school that a family of serial killers lived there, that they practiced dark rituals, and perverted the general rules of society. The Addams Family was a black blot on the spotless record of this no name little town.

For a time I believed in the rumors, I no longer stared out at the house, I shut my blinds and turned to the TV or sawed away on my cello, ignoring the steady ache I had when I came home from school, only to find an empty, silent house.

Then I saw her, the girl in the rain.

It had been an awful day at school; the blonde demons from hell had been more vindictive than usual, breaking into my locker and wrecking it. The teachers of course, ignored it.

As I walked to the bathroom, I glanced out the window…and stopped.

I looked through my window, down at the pale, black braided girl who simply stood at the edge of the cemetery, her face turned upwards toward the downpour, her face relaxed and blank as the drops soaked her through.

Scrambling, I grabbed my rain jacket and umbrella and braved the storm, rain thundering down on my black umbrella, tramping through puddles of mud to get close to the black clad girl.

"Hey!" I yelled, struggling to be heard over the loud crashes of thunder in the distance.

The girl opened her eyes, a look of annoyance replacing the blissful blank expression she'd had on earlier.

"Yes…?" She asked testily, a scowl curling at the corners of her mouth.

"Uh, er….do you want my umbrella? I mean I saw you out here in the rain, so-"

"No, go away."

I scowled before resolutely shoving the umbrella over her head.

"No." I was a little surprised at myself; usually I would just fold and leave. Maybe it was the combined influences of aggression from a crappy day coming to a head, coupled with annoyance with having tramped out into the rain to get soaked for an ungrateful girl.

"Excuse me?" The girl seemed just as surprised as I was. She turned to stare at me; one eyebrow perched over her dark eyes. I could easily read her expression; Use the sense God gave a goldfish and get the heck away from me.

"Just take the damn umbrella." I muttered, shoving the thing into her hands before turning around and walking back to my lonely apartment, cheap hair dye running staining the back of my shirt green.

Over the next few weeks, I looked out of my window everyday for the pale girl, only to be disappointed. Bold, I began to slowly roam the cemetery where I had seen her, no more than fifteen feet in (I was afraid the girl would find me there, what if she lived in the Addams house? Or was an Addams herself? She could have dismembered me or something.) but I did it often enough I had all of the tombstones memorized, from Agony Addams through Zoroaster Addams.

Then, somehow, she managed to sneak up on me when I was doing my customary round of my little section of cemetery.

"What are you doing here?" she asked me, her eyes promising pain. "You're trespassing."

"I'm aware." I muttered, crouching down to read the inscription on one of the dingier tombstones.

"This is the part where you run away screaming." The girl prompted, after a minute of me not moving from my spot.

"Really?" I mumbled, tracing the carved Grim Reaper in the corner of the headstone. "And you have this all scripted out, right?"

"Well, I could always add an act, the one where you get disemboweled and I shove your pathetically dyed red hair onto a pike."

Well, that sealed it. "You must be an Addams."

"Well, seeing as I'm telling you to get lost because you're trespassing, I would have to hazard a guess that yes, I am an Addams. Wednesday Addams."

"Amazing for you." I said, not amused by the sarcastic tone which she used.

"This is the part you tell me your name so I can find out where you live and kill you in your sleep."

"Well, you're just a little freaking ray of sunshine, aren't you?" I had stood up by this point, and was facing her, my hands shoved into my pockets.

Wednesday scowled, her frown throwing shadows over her pale face. "What're you doing here?"

"Looking at graves, obviously." I snorted.

"You have five seconds to explain who you are and why you are in an Addams cemetery or I'll be forced to remove you."

One look at her face had me scrambling to explain, it was that scary. I really must have made her really angry with that 'ray of sunshine' comment.

"M-my names Nathanial O'Killarny, I just like looking at the headstones that's all!" _Please don't eat me. _I held my hands out in from of me, as if trying to keep her away from me. Hell, I _was_ trying to keep her away from me. "I just like looking at the 'cause of death' inscriptions on your family tombstones, I mean, not to be rude or anything, some of them are particularly gruesome."

"Thank you." Wednesday said, deadpan.

"Uh, okay." I was really confused at this. Wouldn't she be mad I was commenting on the untimely demise of her ancestors?

"Which one's your favorite?"

"Uh, favorite?"

"Personally, mine is Aunt Moria. She was disemboweled and had her entrails burned in front of her while she was still alive."

'_Why was she…talking to me? I thought Addams kept to themselves. Secondly, why are we discussing her dead relatives?' "_Mine probably is…I don't even who it was the gravestone was too worn to read the name, but they were mummified alive."

"Our twelve times great cousin Ankhmun, he married into the Addams family." Wednesday said, almost conversationally, trailing her thin, pale fingers over the grey marble of one of the gravestones.

"Uh…cool?"

Wednesday raised a dark eyebrow at me, a stark contrast to her translucently pale skin. "My family has, is, and will be many things, but cool is never going to be one of them."

"Uh…okay?" I was not the most socially correct student at my school and no amount of therapy was ever going to change that, but I thought I might have been proficient enough to hold a decent conversation. Obviously not, if the dull, glassy expression that Wednesday wore when I started to speak was any indication. Time for some damage control.

"Hey, uh, I know this sounds weird, but you want to hang out sometime? I mean, you can say no-"

"No." I forged on, glad that the blonde sharks at my school had given me thick skin that allowed me to hide the actual severity of my blush.

"Well, I just have this collection of history books about the Spanish Inquisition and the punishments used in the middle ages that my Dad gave me to one up my mom at Christmas, so if you ever want to see it…." I trailed off, my dark cheeks hot.

"What makes you think I want to read a book on methods of torture?" Wednesday asked her face bland.

I shrugged. "I just thought…well, you are an Addams, I thought you liked that sort of thing? Maybe you've already read most of them, but whatever." I scribbled down my address with a spare pen and pencil I kept for gravestone rubbings in my pocket. "Here, whenever you want to borrow them, just come one and get them."

Wednesday took the paper and gave me an intense look, searching my face. "You know, you possibly just signed your own death warrant."

"You know what, I'll write down a list of people who'd care if I died and get back to you on that." I shot back lamely. "If it exceeds five I get to live…oops, I guess I die than."

"You're not funny." Wednesday shot down my pathetic attempt at self deprecating humor, before turning back toward her house and starting to walk away without another word.

Ah, the start of a wonderful friendship.


	2. Permanent Loan

I blinked as Wednesday opened the door to her menacing house, its distinct Victorian aura adding to the sense of… disquiet it seemed to radiate. The inside was gloomy, black drapes covered the windows, and the floor was a checkerboard of white and black marble that echoed even my quietest tread tenfold.

"Where is your family?" I wondered aloud, gaping at the huge Entrance hall.

"My parents are on their fifty second honeymoon," Wednesday said dryly. "Pubert and Pugsley are off with Uncle Fester and Grandmama is blowing up the local government buildings." Wednesday smirked at my confused expression before handing her coat off to a stoic manservant who resembled Frankenstein's monster. "Here, give your multicolored monstrosity of a coat to Lurch."

"Alright." I mumbled, handing over my neon blue and green sweatshirt to the pale black haired giant. As Lurch lumbered away, I was quickly distracted. "Wow…" I breathed, staring up at the high ceiling; the dusty chandelier was lit, not with electricity, but with hundreds of black candles. "Do use electricity?"

"Yes." Wednesday's answer was short and to the point as she led the way across the hall, directly up the grand marble staircase with polished ebony balustrades. To the left, I could see the hall splitting into other hallways, leading to the Addams family rooms, I supposed. To the right, I could see only two rooms, both with a large KEEP OUT sign hammered into it.

Wednesday went right.

"Uh, Wednesday, don't those doors say KEEP OUT?" I asked hesitantly, nervously running my hands through my hair that I had dyed bright neon yellow. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure anything dangerous enough for the Addams to keep out is fatal to a mere mortal such as myself."

Wednesday turned back, a half amused smirk adorning her face. "Those are my rooms."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" I mumbled, the irony not lost on me in my embarrassment.

Wednesday opened the first room and gestured for me to go forward. I didn't know what I was expecting, certainly not pink and flowers, but maybe something…more? Really the only thing she had in this room was a metal table and the scent of formaldhyde

"Seriously Wednesday?" I laughed as I laid my palms on the smooth metal of the dissection table. "Please tell me you don't sleep on this, or do you rent a coffin for the night?" I turned back, smilng,only to be met with a sharp pain in my neck. I reached and touched cool glass. A syringe.

"Wed-Wednesday?" I mumbled, my brow contracted into a grimace of concentration as my brain struggled to keep up with the drugs rushing to my brain.

"I was jus' jokin'."I slurred as I tumbled to the ground and my eyesight blurred, I could barely make out the black and white form of Wednesday above me, surgeons mask covering her mouth. 'What…?' I struggled to make sense of the spinning images, the intensified smells. I was only vaguely aware of a oxygen mask placed over my nose and mouth before I had already taken a few breaths.

_Sleep._ I thought I heard Wednesday's voice in my head.

Then darkness descended.

-

I woke up in my bed. Blinking drowsily, I made a face at the disgusting, foreign taste in my mouth before sleepily sitting up. I was on my small couch, dressed in my pajama bottoms (I noted I was wearing a pair I hadn't worn in years) my head comfortably nestled in the crook of the leather sofa. I yawned and stretched…only to be stopped when I felt a slight pulling at my skin, distracting me from moving my cramped I looked down…and froze.

Stretching from my belly button and curving all the way around to my lower back, as a thick row of black stitches, the thread perfectly symmetrical as though done by a master surgeon.

Or mistress.

I nearly started hyperventilating as all the memories of yesterday-today?-came flooding back in, the mask, the drugs, the scalpel, everything.

"What- What did Wednesday _do_ to me?" I whispered as I tentatively ran my fingers along the stitches, my skin erupting in goose bumps where my finger trailed. I felt no pain. I had a sudden image of the movie Alien. What if Wednesday put something in me, which would eventually mature and rip its way out of my chest while I writhed and screamed? Or worse, what if she had implanted a bomb in my gut, and it was even now ticking its way down to my oblivion?

I was on the edge of hysteria.

Without bothering to put on a shirt or wear slippers, I tore out my front door, and out to my back yard. I quickly hopped the fence and flat out sprinted a mile filled with gravestones and headstones to the Addams Family house.

Frantic, I buzzed the doorbell ignored the slightly unnerving scream and hopped nervously from foot to foot, cradling my stitched side.

The door swung in and I was met with a solid wall of tuxedo. Craning my neck back, I saw that it was Lurch, the slightly creepy butler from my first visit.

"You screamed?" Lurch moaned (in a distinctly monster-y, beastly macho kind of way).

"Is Wednesday here?" Lurch nodded slowly and stepped back to allow me in. "Are the rest of the Addams family here?" I asked. I wasn't going to face Wednesday if she had the considerable talents of her probably creepier, powerful family behind her.

She was bad enough by herself.

"Oh, back again already?"

The monotone, dull, totally unaffected voice raised the hair on my neck, which made my cheeks flush red. I had forgotten my shirt, so she was probably taking pleasure in my reaction, from my neck to my ears.

"Um, I think you might have taken something that belonged to me." I said, gesturing at my stitched side.

"It didn't have your name on it." Wednesday retorted crossing her arms and attempting to stare me down.

Not this time.

"Considering it was _in_ my body, I'd thought I was safe in assuming people wouldn't cut you open and…plant a bomb or something, in someone's liver!"

Wednesday looked insulted. "A bomb? That's so unsubtle. I prefer poison, arsenic, actually, but anyway, I didn't put anything _into_ you."

I heard her murmur something under her breath and narrowed my eyes at the two words 'not' and 'yet', which worried me quite a lot. Then it caught in my brain. "Not...anything…_into_…me?" Dreadful realization dawned.

Good lord, she had taken something out.

"How much time do I have?" I asked fearfully, placing my hand over my stomach.

"Fifty years, if you don't die from over-exposure to neon." Wednesday grumbled.

"What…what did you do?" I asked, my brown eyes wide as I peered down at my stitches, believing that perhaps my stomach looked a little smaller.

"You are now the proud owner of only a singly kidney." Wednesday said before shoving me out the door and shutting it in my face.


	3. Masochism Tango

Disclaimer; Any characters or dialouge you recognize is not mine, but Nathanial and his many problems is.

-

Wednesday groaned as Cousin Lumpy whirled her around again, his weird parody of a dance making her nauseous.

She wasn't complaining though. The nausea was wonderfully invigorating after the afternoon of boredom she was being subjected to.

But still, Lumpy was giving her a headache, and she was delightfully rabid when angry. Well, delightful for her anyway. She doubted there would be much left for Lumpy to fit into a matchbox.

"May I cut in?" A soft succinct voice cut in, a voice she was familiar with, having spent most of her evenings messing around the cemetery with him.

"Do you mind?" Wednesday asked her cousin, carefully projecting an 'agree-or-I'll-dismember-you' glare she had perfected after three years of dealing with annoying, childish classmates.

"S-sure." Lumpy stuttered, giving a bright smile to his cousin. "H-have f-fun."

As Lumpy shuffled away, Wednesday turned to get a better look at her savior, surprised despite herself.

Nathanial O'Killarny was not a subtle person; in fact, he was about as subtle as a chainsaw. For example, he made a point to dye his hair a different neon color every week, making sure he wore black clothes in comparison so it stood out better. He collected literature on the Spanish Inquisition and the reigns of the Shoguns of Japan, and, as far as she knew, he was the only non-Addams who enjoyed reading the gravestones in the family cemetery and helping her get some of the harder to acquire parts for Pugsley's various boobytraps.

Subtle was not his forte.

But here he was, dressed regally in a black bawcock with silver stitching, his hair dyed to match, and a big grin on his face, blending in smoothly with the assembled Addams kin.

Wednesday scowled, annoyed at his boyish immaturity. "Wipe that grin off your face Nathanial, it was you or Lumpy, it wasn't the hardest decision I've ever made." Wednesday noticed with satisfaction that his smile dropped as little lower, before it was back in full force. "Finally finished your therapy?" Wednesday smirked, causing Nathanial to flinch for a second.

"Well, you did surgically remove my organ and keep it in your room. I was slightly…traumatized."

Wednesday waved it off. That? That was child's play. Keeping him alive, that had been the hard part. Nathanial seemed to be pulling himself together, flashing that blinding grin again.

"Well, you still looked like you needed rescuing."

Wednesday snorted, but kept silent, knowing that deep down, he was right. Really, really deep down, that is.

"Anyway," Wednesday forged on, ignoring Nathanial's knowing look. "Are you going to ask me to dance or what?"

Nathanial turned red, the blood blossoming in his cheeks, that flooding to his ears and down to his neck. "Um," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I can't dance."

Wednesday stared at him, her eyes wide and unblinking. "Not…dance?" she asked, almost as if it were possible he could function without knowing how. "I've been dancing before I could walk." Because Mother made me, she thought to herself. I hated it, but now I'm glad I know how, it makes these family gatherings less awkward.

"Well," Nathanial huffed, his face less red but still considerably pink, " I wasn't thinking this through all the way, it looked like you weren't having fun, so I rescued you, I didn't think about asking you to dance."

Wednesday cocked her head, staring up at Nathanial's honest face intensely, chewing her bottom lip in a thoughtful scowl.

"What?" Nathanial asked, self consciously, aware they were standing practically in the middle of the dance floor all the sudden.

"Nothing." Wednesday's reply was immediate, and the look was gone. "Come one, I'm going to teach you how to dance, so you can't embarrass yourself in front of anyone important." Without further adieu, Wednesday grabbed Nathanial by his wrist and dragged him to the front entrance, ignoring the knowing smiles and snickers the Addams Clan were sharing against them. Nathanial, however, turned a shade of red that rivaled his earlier color.

Allowing Wednesday to drag him out of the door, Nathanial took a moment again to marvel at the hundreds of candles that lighted the house, lighting the old house in an incandescent glow that made even the decades of spider webs glisten.

"Listen up." Wednesday said flatly, dragging Nathanial through a door off of the main entrance hallway. "I'm only going to teach you this once, so pay attention." They were in a dusty dance studio no, the walls paned in floor to ceiling glass, encrusted with grime. Then he was snapped out of his reverie by the scratchy sound of a record player starting up, filling the air with sweet music that literally made him want to dance.

"The man offers his left hand, that's you Nathanial, in case you've forgotten, to the lady while standing with his weight on his right foot." Wednesday smirked snarkily, amused at Nathanial's slightly pink cheeks.

Nathanial did so, awkwardly standing there, his left hand dangling in space.

"The woman approaches the man and gives him her right hand."

Wednesday took his hand and Nathanial nearly jumped at the coldness of her soft palm. Nathanial blinked as the music seemed to flow through his brain, Wednesday's voice echoing through his brain, detached from her unsynchronized lips.

"The woman takes up position which is slightly offset to her left of the man."

Wednesday pulled him towards her gently, far more gently than she had ever touched him before (she was usually smacking him upside the head) so that his left side was in contact with her right, his long kidney scar tingling at her nearness

"Put your right arm on my shoulder blade." Wednesday said, her face blank. Nathanial, blushing as he did so, complied, his warm hand settling on the black fabric of the floor length dress she was wearing.

"The first beat is the driving step, the man will normally start forward left foot." Nathanial haltingly stepped forward, hesitant and nervous.

"If you're going to do something, be confident about it." Wednesday snapped, annoyed at Nathanial's faltering half-step. Nathanial hastily stepped forward with his left foot again, this time to Wednesday's satisfaction.

"The second step is right foot sideways - to the right, the third step the left foot closing to the right foot and lowering preparing to start forward right. " Nathanial was getting the hang of it now, gracefully able to pull off a decent half waltz.

"Over the three steps the man turns 1/4 turn. The man steps forward again on beat one - forward right foot, side left, right foot closes to left foot and changes weight." Wednesday said, now letting the reigns of the timing and movements to Nathanial, brutally watching him flounder before correcting him and watching him, and correcting him again.

Soon, he was waltzing as though he had done so his whole life, well, maybe not that well, perhaps he was mediocre, but he had an excellent grasp of rhythm, meaning easier dancing, less jerking, and hesitating.

Soon, Nathanial was sweaty and laughing, dancing with Wednesday around the room, the girl in question bearing the unmistakable signs of a smirk, and almost smile.

"This isn't so hard-." Nathanial said, just before he nearly tripped and went sprawling. Wednesday's normally scowling face became slightly bemused as Nathanial righted himself, embarrassed.

Outside, a shaft of moonlight fell across her face, casting half of it in shadow, making her obsidian eyes shine. Nathanial became suddenly very aware how close she was to him, her face barely inches from her own.

And then, Nathanial threw all caution into the wind, and leaned forward, angling his face toward that of Wednesday's…

"Wednesday!" the silky voice of Wednesday's mother Morticia outside the door stopped Nathanial a centimeter from Wednesday.

Wednesday shook herself out of her daze, half pushing Nathanial away, striding to the door, and leaving Nathanial alone in the studio, listlessly staring door, wincing when Wednesday slammed it shut.

'Stupid.' Nathanial thought, as he dropped onto the floor, his head in his hands. 'Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!'

Rejection came down like a black cloud, pressing down on his senses. Icy sadness curled around his heart and his kidney scar ached.

He knew Wednesday didn't like stuff like that, that she was serious and didn't like him like that, but…he did. He liked her a lot. A few tears of self-pity leaked out of his eyes, before he fiercely brushed them away, straightening his bawcock as he stood.

'Enough crying.' He thought, striding back the party, ignoring the pity-filled looks the Addams were surreptitiously giving him, going straight to the flutes of champagne on a side table, downing one, quickly followed by another.

Dejected, Nathanial slumped into a chair against the wall, watching in interest as Mr. Addams, dressed in Cossack attire, accosted his brother, a tall, stocky man with shadowed eyes named Fester.

The tambourines started slow, before they slowly began to pick up the pack, the jingling of the Cossak bells weaving through Nathanial's muddled brain. They began to juggle knives, throwing them so fast that it looked like a web of flexing steal stretched between them. Fester, though uncertain at first, had quickly remembered the dance and was soon finishing, catching the final, foot long blade in his mouth.

'How is that…even humanly possible?" Nathanial thought loosely, fascinated. The knife was longer than his mouth, by rights it should be protruding out of the back of his neck.

Nathanial shivered and turned back to his drink, spinning the golden liquid in the crystal flute. Rubbing his finger over the engraved Addams Family crest, Nathanial slowly descended from the glorious fascination that had distracted him from his stupid actions. He wished he could take back what he had done-almost done- now it would be awkward, strange between Wednesday and himself.

Nathanial allowed his stare to heat, glaring at the goblet with venom. If only her mother hadn't interfered, none of this would have happened. Then Nathanial sighed and continued on with his self indulgence, knowing he was going to wake up tomorrow cursing himself for the brutal hangover he was sure to have (not having had any alcohol whatsoever before this), but not caring anyway.

-

The party was over soon after, the guests all filing out to their cars and, in the case of Flora and Fauna, the van the mental institution sent to pick them up. Nathanial managed to stop himself from drinking too much, he was only fourteen after all, and he wasn't supposed to drink at all, ignoring the knowing looks that Gomez (though he knew he would never use the man's first name to his face, no matter how many times he insisted it) had sent him throughout the party.

Ah, perhaps Morticia had given him similar romantic grief, and he himself had experienced the wonderful numbing sense that the alcohol gave him.

Nathanial wouldn't put it past Morticia at all. She seemed like the type who liked to torture her spouse, literally and figuratively.

He was the last to leave the mansion, carefully saying his fridged goodbyes to Morticia and a slightly better good-bye to a sympathetic Gomez, before wandering off into the cemetery, taking the shortcut back home.

Nathanial knew he was taking an extraordinary amount of time to something so simple. All he had to do was go home, fall asleep, and forget any of this had ever happened. But he found himself stopping often and looking at the moon until his champagne fogged eyes ached and his neck hurt.

Nathanial began to hum a little tune, the beat slow and the tone somber. The soft thrum of his vocal chords echoed around the empty cemetery and the headstones sang back to him.

"Everybody split up….around here….got to find her." The sound of Gomez Addams voice drifting across the graveyard on the wind caught Nathanial's attention. Twisting back to look where he came, he saw a huddle of people, each unmistakably Addams, standing around, listening to Gomez talk. He could only see five people, one of them definitely Lurch, the butler, unmistakable with his hulking form. Gomez and Morticia were also easy to identify, being the second tallest of the group. Pugsly was easy to see as well, his slightly round form easily discernable against the backdrop of moonlight. Mama Addams was also easy to tell, only she was that bent over, her body an oddly shaped lump.

That meant Wednesday was to one they had to find.

Scrambling back to where the Addams were convened, his head free of any drowsiness of fog brought on by copious amounts of champagne, he bounded like a deer over the various opened graves, low headstones, and mausoleums that stood in his way.

"Ah! Nathanial my boy!" Mr. Addams voice alerted the others to Nathanials presence. "You haven't happened to see Wednesday have you?"

"No, sir, not since the party."

"How worrying." Morticia mumbled to herself. "Perhaps you would wish to help?"

"Yes, ma'am." Morticia blinked, then turned to Mama Adams. "Mother, why is this boy being so polite?"

"Er…" Nathanial stuttered as all of the Addams looked at him, bemused. "I guess I wasn't brought up right?" he half-heartedly offered, hoping merely to be admitted to help find the object of his rejected affection.

"Poor thing." Morticia said sadly, before turning back to her husband. "We have once more searcher, my love."

"Splendid! Pugsley, head for the Dung Heap." Gomez said in serious voice, the furious chewing of his cigar the only indication of his worry for his daughter. "Mama and I will take the Shallow Graves, Morticia and Nathanial will search the Crypt and you, Lurch, check out the Bottomless Pit." Gomez paused for a second to take a long bracing draft from his cigar. "Fester?"

"Up here!" Fester's voice rang from his second floor window.

"Fester, you take the ravine and the unmarked, abandoned well!"

"Someone should stay behind, in case she comes back!" Festers rough, gravelly voice called back, his bald head and dark eyes poking out of the window, looking down on the assembled family.

"Good man!" Gomez called back, his voice lacking his usual gusto. "Good thinking!"

"Then who will take the Swamp?" Mama Addams asked, clasping a divining rod in one wrinkled hand.

Thing, crawling on his fingertips like a spider, scuttled along on the ground and tapped Gomez's shoe, in an obvious volunteer to search the swamp.

"That's the spirit Thing, lend a hand." Gomez smiled down at the disembodied hand. "Now let's go!"

Nathanial nodded and when the Addams family huddle broke, he followed the tall form of Morticia Addams, the fog that hung low to the ground swirling about her black shrouded body. It was like looking at a specter of Death's Lady, an analogy Nathanial had to shake himself hard to get rid of.

"You were upset, when you came back to the party." Morticia stated, her words ringing out in the stifling mist. "I believe my intrusion may be the cause of that."

Nathanial shifted uncomfortably, uneasily eyeing Morticia.

"As delightful as misery is, I hate seeing it when I am unwittingly the cause of it." Morticia paused and looked back at him, her crimson lips quirked slightly in a smile. "It is no fun when done accidentally."

Nathanial smiled back faintly in return, before turning his attentions to the huge mausoleum they were approaching, the name ADDAMS engraved over the shut doorway.

Morticia brushed the large vulture statue near the entrance, and the doors swung open, revealing Wednesday Addams, asleep on a stone altar, probably the seal to some rich Addams corpse.

Wordlessly, Nathanial stooped down and hoisted Wednesday into his arms, surprised by how light she was. Carefully cradling her to his chest, he walked out of the door, barely glancing at Morticia, so intense was

Morticia smiled slightly at Nathanial's almost unconscious display of affection before sweeping after Nathanial, closing the mausoleum behind him.

The rest of the Addams family filed in next to him, Gomez slightly brushing Wednesday's hair out of her face.

The group tramped up to the shadowy Addams House, Nathanial wishing fervently for the warm heated confines of his apartment, that Addams House was rather drafty.

Then they came to the locked, barred, and security taped gates to the property. Weird.

"What is the meaning of this?" Gomez exclaimed, clutching at the whining gates of the property, almost like a dog.

"It's a restraining order!" Tully exclaimed, striding up to the fence. "Saying you can't come within 1000 yards of this house!"

"Restraining order? Against my own home?"

"Actually, the estate goes to the eldest brother, Fester, so as such, he is completely in his rights to have you ejected from his home."

"But-Fester? Fester adores Gomez!" Morticia interjected, her eyes, dark like Wednesday's, sparkling dangerously.

"No, he's afraid of him! The Amore twins brought it all back, and now, I think it would be best if you all left."

Gomez let out a roar of anger, slamming his palms onto the gate, jarring Wednesday into consciousness. Blinking blearily, she shifted her head, rubbing her head onto silken fabric. Confused, she looked up, only to see a pair of sharp grey eyes looking down into her own.

'Nathanial?' Wednesday thought sleepily, a slight frown marring her pale features.

"You awake?" Nathanial whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. "Do you want to walk?"

Still too sleepy to appreciate this, Wednesday shook her head and burrowed deeper into Nathanial's arms.

Nathanial stared down at the girl he was holding in his arms. 'Did she just…refuse to get down?' Nathanial thought, confused. 'I expected her to immediately get down! Maybe she just didn't recognize me, because she was so tired.' Nathanial's rational mind explained logically, but a small part of him, a part not squashed by Wednesday's apparent rejection of his advances rejoiced at this vote of trust in him.

"Where will we stay?" Morticia asked, looking at Gomez beseechingly as she jerked her head towards the exhausted children.

"Well, we shall have to rent a hotel." Gomez said, slightly disgusted at the thought. "And tomorrow, I will go to court."

"Do we even have any money?" Mama Addams asked, her scratchy voice worried.

Gomez felt around in his pockets frantically, only coming up with a single dollar.

"You guys can come over and sleep at my place, if you want." Nathanial volunteered, still holding Wednesday. "I have a guest bedroom and a few air mattresses."

"Is your apartment painted in…pastels?" Morticia asked, almost looking like she would be disgusted at the prospect.

Nathanial shrugged, well, as much as he could shrug with a girl in his arms. "White walls, beige carpet, basic run of the mill apartment."

"It will have to do my love." Gomez said, patting Morticia's pale, spidery hand. "Well, until you manage to redecorate the place."


	4. Under Duress

"…you're probably going to go to hell for this, you know that right?"

Nathanial's voice was deadpan as he hung upside down by his ankle in the middle of Wednesday's room, his face turning uncomfortably pink as all the blood rushed to his head. Wednesday ignored him and kept reading her book, _The Spanish Inquisition; How They Did It, _not shifting from her comfortable spot sprawled on her bed. The only indication that she heard him was the slight scowl on her face and the way her eyebrow would twitch every time he spoke.

Nathanial shook his head roughly, attempting to dispel the black spots that had started to pop up. "Come on!" He whined as he slowly revolved, tension causing his body to spin gently on the rope attached to his ankle, eventually showing his back to Wednesday. "I didn't even mean it!"

"Are you telling me you didn't _mean_ to call me 'tribute to the community'?"

"I called you a cold hearted spawn of Satan right before that! How was I supposed to know you'd take offense to a sarcastic _compliment_!" Nathanial whined.

Wednesday snorted, thumbing her way through hard back book. As she turned the next page, the book shrieked. Nathanial swore and jerked, setting himself swinging back and forth, hitting his head on the foot of her four poster bed as a consequence.

"What the hell was that?" Nathanial moaned, his ears ringing and his head pounding.

Wednesday smirked, though the cold fury in her eyes tempered her amusement somewhat. "The disembowelment of a heretic during the Spanish Inquisition."

"Spiffing." Nathanial muttered as he was revolved slowly back to facing Wednesday.

"Hm."

Nathanial sighed. "Please, please, please let me down?"

Wednesday snorted. "I don't accept apologies from dead men."

Nathanial laughed nervously, using one of his dangling arms to scratch the back of his head. "Aw, you don't mean that do you Wednesday? I dyed my hair all your favorite colors."

Indeed, Wednesday thought sourly, looked at his recently trimmed hedgehog hair style. It had been carefully dyed, each individual spike colored one of her favorite colors; black, blue, and red.

"They're only my favorite colors when your skin looks like that." Nathanial gulped at her cold grin.

"Please don't kill me."

"I'll think about it."

"You know you'll miss me."

Wednesday rolled her eyes. "If I miss you that badly I'll just talk to you through a séance."

"It won't be the say~aaame." Nathanial said in a sing-song voice, a sloppy grin plastered on his face. Wednesday looked at him with mild concern. What if he suffered permanent brain damage? Quickly, Wednesday smothered her quick flash of worry by lashing out with her foot, kicking Nathanial in the side to set him swinging again.

"Oof!" Nathanial wheezed, his face was now a bright shade of pink. "Let me down, I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Wednesday asked slyly, folding over the corner of her page and putting the book down to look at him. "Anything at all?"

"Yes!" Perhaps if he was in his right mind he would have taken care in what he promised, but he was hanging upside down in Wednesday's room, blood was rushing to his head, and he was under duress. Cut him some slack.

Yeah, cut him some slack so Wednesday could hang him with it.

* * *

"When I said anything, this is not what I had in mind!" Nathanial yelled, his panic coloring his voice as he struggled against his restraints. The thick belts that connected him to the electric chair's padded seating didn't budge.

"Stop whining." Wednesday snorted, impatiently setting up the wires as she waited for the generator to power up.

"I'm only human!" Nathanial yelled, for once seriously taking Wednesday's attempts on his life seriously. "I can't take huge amounts of electricity like an Addams!"

"I know that." Wednesday said. "That's why we're starting out slow."


	5. Candle Wax

A candle burned, its wick sparking as fire caught the impurities within, its wax shape slick and alive as melted into a stub. As the white wax ran, its substance conforming to the cracks and lines in the wooden floor its flame as the small pinprick of light guttered and popped.

White smoke, invisible in the near absolute dark, wafted from the wick, the last sigh of a once living flame.

A scratch of match on matchbox, and the hissing sound of chemicals burning. Red tipped fire, a wooden match roared into life, illuminating the face of its wielder before it was touched to a new tall candle that hissed and spat and burned green flame that softened gleaming dark crimson wax.

Wax soon began to drip again, but this time the hot runny solution was caught in a small bowl.

"It's not hot enough." A voice murmured, dark eyes intent on the melted and rapidly hardening wax. A gloved held out the metal bowl over the green flame, it began to boil, sluggish bubbles growing and popping with a lethargic intensity, stirring the mixture with a thermometer. Good, it was hot enough to leave burns, but not enough for infection.

Taking the bowl gingerly in hand to avoid burning fingers, grabbing the red candle in the other, a black clad figure lifted itself off of the floor and glided through the dark to the shining metal operating table in the center of the room. The light of a harvest moon shone pale orange through the unfettered window, illuminating the figure bound with his hands above his head and his knees by a belt to the strong steel table.

His eyes were closed, and he was breathing gently, unaware of his predicament. The wraith allowed itself a small second to scrutinize his face, calculating every inch of his profile. His hair wasn't dyed obscene colors, as it usually was, but was a normal black which looked slightly out of place on him.

His face and naked torso was light, but browned from hanging out in the Addams cemetery. A long scar, white and faded, curved from his belly around underneath him, out of sight. Under his closed eyelids, it knew a pair of sharp brown eyes flickered back and forth in the throes of a dream.

A white strip of linen served as a gag, muffling the slight whistle he made when he slept.

The face of the shadow was thrown into orange light, illuminating the horrific disfigured face of a demon from hell that drew a ladle from within its black hide. Dipping it carefully into the wax and, holding its breath, it drizzled the concoction onto Nathanial O'Killarny's vulnerable skin.

The boy snapped awake, his eyes bugging comically as he yelped into his gag. He looked around wildly, his eyes unfocused as he found the source of his pain. Pure undiluted terror filled his eyes as he started to struggle, screaming meaningless words that were nothing more that muffled moans through his gag.

"Mortal," the demon hissed, its fangs and roughened, disgusting protrusions unmoving as sound hissed from its maw. "Do you know why I'm here?" Fire flickered from its dark eye sockets.

Nathanial was crying now, tears running out of his eyes like faucets as he screamed with undiluted terror at the demon who he was sure was going to eat him and devour his soul for good measure.

"I am here…to scare the shit out of you!" The demon lunged, and Nathanial fell back against the table, cowering in absolute fear. Then his eyes widened, and narrowed.

"'edsd'y!" he growled through his gag, looking up at the smirking demon.

"Took you long enough." Wednesday said as she doffed the long trailing black robes and hideous mask she had been wearing. "You are such a girl."

Nathanial began what she knew was a tirade of swear words (his left eye always ticked a little) and Wednesday was content to let him tire himself out against the gag. Wednesday rolled her eyes and dumped the rest of the bowl onto his crotch, the heat seeping through the thing summer pajamas. Nathanial swore and jerked on the table sliding left to right, trying to dislodge the searing wax.

"Priceless." Wednesday muttered, before slipping a knife through his bindings, allowing Nathanial to roll onto the floor.

"What the hell Wednesday!" Nathanial said as his ripped away the gag, peeling off the hardening wax that took bits of skin with it. "You gave me second degree burns!"

Wednesday shrugged, her dark eyes glittering as she smirked at Nathanial's abused and rumpled features. "Did I really? That's too bad; I was going for the third degree."

"How did you get into my house?" Nathanial demanded, ignoring Wednesday's snarky smile.

Wednesday snorted, and waved his query off. "I made a copy of your house key."

"You- you did what?" Nathanial demanded his face red in indignation.

"You'd think you'd be used to me violating your privacy by now." The Addams girl said with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, it was my last chance to attempt to maim you before I get shipped off to _summer camp_." Wednesday spat the word out with venom, scrunching her face slightly at the thought.

"It can't be that bad." Nathanial muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he hopped onto the metal surgery table, glancing at the half crusted wax and…was that _blood_? "My mom sends me to this summer camp every year for kids from her _high_ _society_. It's all full of blonde cheerleaders and white supremacists."

Wednesday's eyes flashed. "Racists?" she said coldly.

Nathanial nodded. "I think it's why my Mom divorced my Dad, she couldn't handle the prejudice against a mixed racial relationship."

Wednesday frowned. "Then why-"

"Why am I so white?" Nathanial asked lightly.

Wednesday nodded wordlessly, sensing the tightness around his fake smile and the stress lines around his eyes belayed his distress at her question.

"Genetics, I guess. My Dad must have had the recessive gene in his system and so out I came, white as my Mom."

Wednesday scowled. She _hated_ racists. After all, how many people took a look at a disfigured or foreign Addams and immediately turn them out? She at least hated everyone equally, with the exception being her own family of course.

And Nathanial, but he amused her more than anything so he didn't really count.

"So…why don't you tell your parents you don't want to go?" Nathanial mumbled, his cheeks flushed as he broke the awkward silence. "They seem pretty liberal to me, I thought they didn't make you do things you don't like."

Wednesday snorted. "Debbie, our new Nanny, decided to tell our parents what we _really_ wanted." She growled, her pale fingers clenching. "She told Father and Mother that we were too scared to ask to go to summer camp because they thought they would disapprove of it and be angry." Wednesday tossed her braids in an impatient manner. "So now they won't take no for an answer and are shipping me off."

"So they don't believe you?" Nathanial asked; head cocked in confusion. "I thought untrustworthiness was a common theme in teenagers."

Wednesday pursed her lips. "I have never lied to my parents." She said tersely. "I may have omitted and led them to pin the blame on my brother- _brothers_." She corrected, remembering the recent birth of her youngest brother Pubert, who refused to die. "But I have never given them a boldfaced lie. Everyone else, including Uncle Fester and Grandma, is fair game though."

"So…everything you told me could be a lie?"

Wednesday smirked and leaned back onto the wall. "Maybe. In any case, they wont believe me. Perhaps they are suffering BSS."

Nathanial blinked. "BSS?"

"Baby Shock Syndrome."

After sending her an incredulous look that was met with a deadpan one, Nathanial sighed and glanced out the window at the night sky which was beginning to lighten. "I better go. It's been fun." He smiled, wincing as he rubbed the angry red mark on his chest. "I guess I'll see you in…a month?"

Wednesday nodded. It seemed their penitentiary- ahem- _summer _camps went on at the same time.

Nathanial nodded and let himself out of the window, into the black branches of the dead oak tree that leaned against the side of the house.

A twinge of sadness entered Wednesday's heart, but she scowled and quickly shoved it away. There was no way she would admit; even to herself that she was missing Nathanial. Even if this month was hell, at least it was away from him.

0o0o0o0o0

"No way."

"Now way in hell."

Nathanial and Wednesday Addams stared at each other in shock, ignoring the blondes that milled around them in the parking lot of Camp Chippawa.

"Y-you're going to camp here?" Nathanial stammered, his ears turning bright red (As they always did when he was angry, shocked, or flustered).

Wednesday's shock turned into a scowl. "Is that a problem?" She hissed menacingly.

"N-no! Not at all!" Nathanial stuttered, rubbing his turquoise hair. He must have dyed it before he left. "I was just surprised, that's all."

Wednesday's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, sure…"

Inwardly, Wednesday felt a little relief. She knew as soon as she saw the preppy, happy faces of her fellow campers that a month would be far too long. At least now she had someone she knew, and could abuse and take it like the guinea pig he was.

"Nathanial m'boy!" Gomez bounded up to Nathanial with his usual exuberance, Morticia and Pugsley following behind at a more sedate pace. "What are you doing here?"

Nathanial shrugged. "My parents have been forcing me to go here since I was eight."

"At least you'll have someone to help you poison the other children." Morticia said, a sneer of distaste crossing her face as she saw a young girl in a pink cardigan walk past.

Wordlessly, Wednesday took out her bottle of arsenic, uncorking it before taking a bracing gulp. Turning to Nathanial, she held it out for him.

"This'll probably kill me, won't it?" The teenager asked, eying the skull and crossbones label.

"It's diluted." Wednesday offered, wiping her lips with a black handkerchief. "Mother won't let me drink un-watered arsenic until I'm eighteen."

Nathanial gave her a sideways glance, but when he looked up to see Amanda Buckman making her way towards them with a liposuction smile on her face, he took a long gulp of the concoction.

"Hm..." he muttered "Tastes like bitter almonds."


	6. Cask of Amontillado

The light streamed down through the dusty panes of the catacombs, its eerie silence making my breathing sound unnaturally loud in my ears, as did the slow exhale of my companion.

"Creepy." I remarked, sending a half smile at the pale form beside me.

"Awesome." A seventeen year old Wednesday Addams sent back, sending me a sharp glare, as she forged ahead, hefting her torch like some parody of Lady Liberty.

I sighed as I ran my hands through my short cropped hair, dyed a dark blue, almost black. My clothing mirrored my hair, eclectic and colorful, bright neons and vivid color. Wednesday, by comparison, was as different as night and day. Her pale skin was almost ethereal in the gloom of the tunnels, her black clothing making us a strange pair. However, no matter how different we were, we had a strange comradeship, a strange sort of affection that two outcasts can give each other.

"Yes of course, because if it's creepy, it's automatically categorized as 'awesome' in the Addams family logbook." I shot back, quickly following the brunette deeper into the Italian vaults, the walls encrusted with niter and water trickling down through the bones that lined the walls.

"Obviously."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd rather be in Spain, seeing those Inquisition Chambers," I muttered, ignoring her acerbic comment. "Or maybe in France, researching Joan of Arc and the martyrs of the French Revolution."

"Might I remind you, Nathanial, that it was my father that funded this trip? And it was only by telling him I would be bringing an imaginary_ girl _companion that he provided the extra funds by which you were able to tag along at all?" Wednesday quirked a dark eyebrow at me, her quiet amusement reminding me of the conditions of which I had been allowed to accompany her on this summer vacation to Europe.

I was not to touch, handle, interact, give it away, or to even think of the money budget at all. Wednesday was in charge of getting food, getting a decent hotel, getting the paltry few souvenirs she budgeted between the two of us, and airplane tickets.

I was not to even consider choosing where we would go. Wednesday was to direct, organize and make sure we got everywhere on time.

I just drove the rental car.

I sighed as I followed the black clad figure of Wednesday, able to, even in the gloom; appreciate her decision to stop wearing dresses when she turned fifteen. A black ribbed turtle neck stretched from her neck to her wrists, a pair of black slacks flowing to her black hiking boots that she was fond of wearing.

Simply put, she looked_ really_ good.

Wednesday had stopped by a pile of bones, and was staring at them with an intensity she showed everything that caught her attention, irritating or otherwise. Annoyed, at the interest she was showing a dead person (I mean, she told me she had a family cemetery in her back yard, how novel could a dead person be?) and ignoring me, I had to poke fun to save my slightly bruised, miniscule ego.

"Oh look," I said. "_another_ pile of bones. The joy I feel is too great to be expressed in words."

"Your sarcasm sucks."

I rolled my eyes. My ego was now the size of a pinhead. Wednesday was good at keeping me humble.

"One of the Addams was entombed here." Wednesday said, almost conversationally as we fell in step with each other and traversed deeper into the cold catacombs. "Great-great grandfather Methuselah was walled in alive by an angry mob into the wall of one of these catacombs."

I yawned, bored with her story. "Wednesday, really, nearly all of your ancestors in the 1800s met some sort of gory end, I'm not exactly impressed if your great grandfather twice removed invented the rack-"

"Great-great-_great_ grandfather." Wednesday corrected, smirking.

"Yes, yes." I waved her off "The _point_ is, your family is so morbid that blood, gore, and other gruesome ends really don't faze me like they did when you'd scare me with tales about them when I was fifteen."

Wednesday snorted. "I don't need stories to scare anyone, especially you."

I wisely didn't challenge her on that statement.

"Can we leave now?" I whined, rubbing my arms against the chill of the vaults.

"Baby." Wednesday remarked, ignoring me.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not an Addams." I grumbled. "Definition; A person capable of horrific deeds that transcend the stereotypical macabre tortures, generally impervious to the cold, dank, and damp."

"Stop whining, it makes me want to feed you to something nasty."

"Hmph."

"It's not like you couldn't be an Addams if you really wanted to." Wednesday said, rolling her eyes as she strolled through the catacombs.

"I've already asked you out multiple times." I said, taking her arm in mine. "But _you_ are the one holding out on me."

"Maybe you just haven't asked me out the right way." Wednesday said, giving me a look out of the corner of her eye.

"Fine." I stopped suddenly, turning Wednesday around so she faced me. "Wednesday Friday Addams, this is the dankest, darkest, most foul place I've ever been in, so naturally you must think it's the perfect place for me to ask you out." I gave her a hard look. "Wednesday, will you finally let me take you out sometime?"

Wednesday cocked her head, her obsidian eyes staring through me, the barest hint of a smirk playing about her mouth.

"What was it about those Spanish Inquisitional chambers you were talking about?"


	7. Crypt Keeper

I'm so sorry! It's been over a year since I had an update (literally a year, geez) and I'd just run out of ideas. Then I had this pop up and I just thought _bam! _ and so here it is. Now real fluff, but enough char. development to keep you guys happy.

* * *

Nathanials rather pathetic dreams of asking Wednesday on a, well, _normal_ date were dead the second he was snapped to reality by her biting sarcasm. Really, whenever she looked at him with that look in her eyes (usually accompanied by a remark about his intelligence), he could feel his hopes wither and die like her mother's roses.

He wasn't expecting much, but really didn't want to have to redefine his relationship with her after _this_.

"Goddamnit Wednesday!" Nathanial yelped as he danced away from the outstretched fingers of a member of the living dead. They were surrounded by a horde of them, trapped in Addams Family crypts. Their oozing flesh, putrid and rotting, filled the air between them. "You just _had _to work on your satanic rituals here!"

Wednesday frowned, flicking a pin she usually kept in her braid at one of the closer undead. Her Aunt Aurelia, she believed. She turned back to face the boy who was currently smashing in her Uncle Tiberius's face with the thin birch cane she'd used to draw the pentagram, not caring that her projectile had ripped out her Aunt's eye and dropped the zombie like a stone.

"Why are you whining?" she demanded. "I thought fighting zombies was one of your dreams."

Nathanial grimaced as she kicked at a twitching hand that scrabbled at his boot. "Wednesday, that was a nightmare I had a month ago."

The Addams girl frowned. "I know." Her porcelain face smoothed again as she gored her cousin Berchard's face with the thin stiletto she kept in her shoe. Blood that had begun to course through dead flesh, urged by her pentagram, splashed both hers and Nathanial's faces.

"Wednesday…" Nathanial turned to look at Wednesday in wonder, his attention wandering from the headless zombie that was clumsily waving its arms around searching for prey. "Were you trying to do something _nice?"_

Wednesday scowled as she flung her knife, striking the undead that was attempting to chomp on Nathanial from behind. "Obviously not." She seemed sourer than usual, more… edgy. Something that had nothing to do with killing her already dead relatives. "Now pay attention. I would be annoyed if I had to kill you because you were bitten."

"Why, Wednesday!" Nathanial tittered, using the mockingly shallow voice of many of their peers. "I'm so flattered of your attentions-OW!"

Nathanial stared disbelievingly at the bobby pin that Wednesday had jabbed into his forearm. "You- you stabbed me!"

"So?" Wednesday snorted petulantly, tugging him back by his shirt collar to avoid a haphazard swipe from the still headless zombie. "I've stolen your kidney too."

"I have to be on a strict regimen of medication, dieting, and exercise thank you!" Nathanial let a small amount of actual anger into his words.

"Who pays for it?" Wednesday asked. She gave him a baleful look before finishing the last of the zombies that moaned around the crypt.

"My insurance plan?"

"Pfft. Yeah, right." Wednesday scoffed. "Like your insurance company would ever believe a teenager girl _stole _your kidney and cover it. No, my parents are."

"W-what?" Nathanial gawked.

"My mother was rather… angry with me, for doing such a thing to you. She thought you were a pretty decent sort, for someone who wasn't an Addams and was disappointed I'd been so rude as to take your organs without asking." Wednesday rolled her eyes. "I suppose she's just glad I have a friend I'm not related to."

"Friend?" Nathanial's heart soared a little. He'd never heard Wednesday ever refer to their unique (a sometimes downright abusive) relationship, never heard her define him as her friend.

"I suppose that's what we are." Wednesday seemed elegantly amused, as if she was merely humoring her mother.

"You suppose?" Despite himself, Nathanial began to feel slightly upset. His voice rose. "You suppose we're friends?"

Dammit; he hated how he would give everything he had to make someone like Wednesday Addams like him and all he would receive were barbs that hurt like hell. He looked at the pin still sticking out of his arm. Often all he got was stitches for his trouble.

"I'm tired of being nothing but a guinea pig to you Wednesday!" Nathanial's voice hummed with frustration.

Wednesday opened her mouth to retort, her eyes narrowed-

"No." Nathanial interrupted. "I'm going to finish." He took a deep breath. "You aren't a perfect person, Wednesday. In fact, by most people standards, you wouldn't even be considered a person of sound mind and body. I accept that about you, because, mostly, you're an Addams and that's what an Addams is. Insane and sadistic."

He began to pace, stepping over the still twitching bodies of the undead that littered the floor.

"But you shut me out," he growled, turning to look the impassive girl in the eye. "I know you don't like people in general, and I'm happy you even associate with me. I'm really happy; it keeps my social worker from using me as an excuse to drag up my social instability as an excuse to lump me with my parents and you usually provide the most entertaining ways to spend an afternoon."

"So whats the problem?" Wednesday snapped.

"You know my birthday, my favorite color-"

"Blue is a stupid color."

"-my family issues; you know a lot about me and I know nothing about you. This is really one-sided and, I feel like you look down on me because of it!" Nathanial threw his hands into the air. "I feel like you think I'm weak, or something, because I like telling you about myself and my interests and let you _know _me."

The crypt rung with his words, and Wednesday's voice looked even more stony than usual. The silence lengthened.

And suddenly, Wednesday's eyes softened.

She tilted her head slightly, regarding Nathanial with careful black eyes. "My favorite color is green."

"Not black?" Nathanial asked in mock-surprise, the tension in his shoulders easing as normality set back in.

Wednesday scowled at him, but he noticed it was noticeably lighter than usual and there were lines of relief around her eyes. "Don't push it." She pushed past him and exited the crypt, kicking in the face of a zombie that strained for her ankle.

"Wouldn't dream of it." he grinned and followed Wednesday out into the night.

It wasn't a kiss, it wasn't a date… but it was a start.


End file.
